


The Boston Job

by laCommunarde



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7440154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laCommunarde/pseuds/laCommunarde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard Snart and Mick Rory go to pull a heist in Boston in 2004. Mick decides he is going to propose while there. Len also has plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boston Job

The year was 2004 when a job took them to Boston. It was November and cold and wet, and nothing would ever dry again, or so muttered Mick, bundled up against the damp. Len took a look at him and laughed, “You want my spare coat, all you got to do is ask.”

“Screw you. Screw this job.” Mick tried to bury his hands in his armpits and pull the cap down over his head further. He considered his gloves. He could stop and fish them out of his luggage. But this wasn't on the job yet, and he wasn't about to use them against the cold – they were for jobs – but oh was it tempting. 

“I thought you ran hot?” Len observed, small smirk on his face, the asshole. Mick surveyed him – perfectly happy wearing only his mid weight jacket, no hat or anything, and he did not feel the cold or the damp. Also, he knew Mick’s temperature ran hot. The man used him as a space heater when they slept, either in prison when they were in together or in their safehouses or motels. So he knew. And in Central, Mick could wear he's tank six months of the year, his henley another three, and only had to wear his jacket the last three, sometimes two. 

This, though, this wasn't cold. This was wet that snuck into a person's bones and just stayed there. The gloves - and the offered jacket - wouldn't do any go against that. “In Central, where everything’s not damp,” Mick muttered again.

Mick could have sworn he heard Len chuckling under his breath. However, when Len spoke, his voice was tender. “We’re almost there.” 

“Don’t know why we’re going there anyway. Don't we usually stay at a motel?” Mick muttered, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. His hand collided with the things he had in there. 

Len glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Usually, yeah. This just worked better for this job. Besides, we can see Boston. Play tourist."

“I still don’t know why we have to play that I’m their long lost relative.” A part of Len's plan for this job call for staying with someone who supposedly had relatives in Central City, at their B&B, that way they could pretend they were visiting relatives in Boston, and it would provide them names and IDs. Mick wondered what kind of relatives they were supposed to be if they hadn't seen their family since they were little. 

Mick had no idea what Snart said on the phone to folks to make them believe him. Put him in a room with criminals, Mick would bond like the best of them, maybe come away with a deal satisfactory to both sides, but Lenny, he could talk up a room of people who weren't criminals. Probably that thing he did with his posture and his lips and his eyes. Yeah, that thing he did with his eyes that made Mick was to hug him, and that thing he did with his lips that made Mick want to kiss him and keep kissing him, and that thing he did with posture - well Mick was just cutting that thought off there. Those three thing, and he wanted to make it known that Len was his and he was Len's till death or a strong disagreement did them part, and make sweet love to him till the mattress broke.

So Mick clasped his hands around the items in his jacket pockets - his lighter in one hand and the Thing in his other. He opened the box around the Thing and made sure it was still there, wouldn't do to lose it now, not when it had made it to Boston safe and sound and that after he had saved up enough money to buy the darn thing. Len glanced at Mick's hand and gave his disapproving look - thought Mick was finding his lighter, damnit. Mick shut the box and tugged his hands out of his pocket. "Was just checking it was there."

Len sighed but nodded and kept walking. They arrived at a townhouse. “This is the address.”

“You go knock.” Mick shoved his hand back in his pockets - yep, still there.

“You’re coming with me.”

Mick grunted but climbed the steps with Len, who rang the doorbell. Len looked back at Mick, both hands shoved in his pockets, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. “You look like a sulky teenager, you know that?” 

The door opened. 

“Hello! You must be Leonard!” The woman who opened the door wrapped his into an embrace before he could do anything to avoid it. She saw Mick over his shoulder. “Goodness! You’ve grown! The last time I saw you was at Joe’s graduation. You must have been nine then. Come here.” She somehow handed Len off to one arm to keep hugging and hugged Mick with the other. “It’s wonderful to hear from the Central City branch of the family - you’ll have to excuse me, I don’t really know where anything west of Philly is.”

Len managed to get out of her hug. “Well, it’s so far away, Miss.”

“Oh, don’t Miss me like a southern gentleman. Mary will do fine.”

“Mary,” Len repeated. 

Mary kissed Mick on the forehead and let go. “Come in. You look miserable out here.” They followed her into the house. “My brother - that’s Sean, if you remember him at all - is out right now, probably getting himself wicked plastered in Back Bay, probably at Brahmin Bar.”

“We’re here to see you,” Len said.

She turned to Mick. “Well your friend is a shameless little flirt.”

Mick pulled his hand out of his coat and his chin out of his coat collar. “Ma’am,” he said.

“I’ll have you know I’m only seven years older then you are, Michael. Don’t ma’am me.” 

Mick ducked his head back into his jacket. “Sorry.”

“Now look what I’ve done. I’ve made you blush again. Let me introduce you to Annie. She’s better with people. Please make yourselves comfortable.” She ushered them into a front living room.

“Why are we here again?” he asked Len. "And why did you give her our first names? Won't it be traceable?"

"Central has around 4 million people. Besides, it’s not like they’re gonna tell anyone. Besides, we're laying low. So they think we're just a couple of thirty year olds going to see relatives, instead of robbing the collection."

"Right." Mick nodded, shoving his hands back it his pockets, fiddling again with the Thing. It would be much more difficult to pop the question while they were staying in a bed and breakfast with lace doilies and fussy floral seat covers. 

Len saw him fiddling with it and sighed. "She seemed nice enough on the phone, perfectly willing to believe you were a representative of the Central City branch of her family, but if you don't like the arrangement, we can leave and get ourselves a hotel." Mick did not stop fiddling, instead wondering again how this was going to affect his plans of what to do in Boston. Len put a hand on his arm. "Instead of burning down the place, huh?"

Mick nodded and stopped fiddling. "Uh, Snart, I know we're in Boston to rob that collection, but I thought we could..."

Mary walked in with another woman then, cutting Mick off. "And here are my second cousin and his long-time friend. Mick, Leonard, this is Annie. We are married."

Len brightened and leaned forward, far more interested than Mick normally thought he would be in anything political. "Married? Is it legal for two women?"

"Yes. It's been legal since gay marriage passed earlier this year," Mary said. Annie glanced back and forth between them.

"Well, congratulations," Len smiled, glancing at Mick. "You two seem very happy."

Mick nodded.

Annie sat down and gestured for them to follow. "Yes, well. We're very happy with Massachusetts right now. We hope the rest of the country will follow suit." 

Len shrugged and took a seat on a wooden chair, crossing his legs - Mick wondered what he was nervous about: the man never sat right on a chair unless he was pulling off something. "Hopefully. You know politics." Which meant that Len was bluffing, or had looked up politics for a job. This job? They hadn't really needed to know politics for previous jobs. Either that or something was going on that Mick didn’t know about.

Annie muttered, "Do I ever."

Mick chuckled, and Annie smirked at him. 

Mary was asking, "So how long have you two been friends?"

Len laughed and gestured at Mick. "Met when I was fourteen, and he was sixteen."

Mick turned to stare: what was Snart doing using their real ages, on top of their real names?

"And what do you plan to do while here?" Annie asked, leaning forward on her chair.

"Sightseeing, the works, seeing what Boston has to offer." Len did his captivating smile. Mick stuck his hand back into his pocket: if these two women were married, maybe he could do it anyway. "We were wondering if you had a map actually?"

Mary nodded. "Of course." She left the room to get one, whispering before she left to Annie, who looked between them and nodded. 

Mick tensed and leaned over to whisper to Len, "Snart, they've spotted something. Are we blown?"

Len shrugged him away. "Don't worry."

Annie smiled at both of them. "The church where we got hitched is around the corner. It doubles as a synagogue. Has a very nice priest and a very nice rabbi who march with us every Pride Parade. And the place files the marriage license. We got ours in three days.” 

Len looked at Mick. "That's wonderful." 

Mick knew that; he had looked up exactly how long it took to get it. Good to know that there was a place they could go get it done without setting foot in the county clerk's, and if they could get it in their own names, even better. Now when to ask if Lenny wanted to? And how? He knew how Len got about sentimentality: too much and it was end of story; he would shut down the topic of conversation. So, not in a sentimental place, no candlelit dinner, no getting down on one knee. Heck he wasn't even sure the ring wasn't too much. But they'd been together, and sure, they'd been with other people, but he wanted Len to know he was his and that he would always hold Len above everyone else. Although even that might be too sentimental. After all, they had a good thing going for them, and if he was screwing that up by asking him, Snart might move out. He found himself reaching for his lighter in despair.

"Are there any clubs nearby?" Len was asking. Mick looked up. Len typically didn't like clubs: too loud, too many people acting too stupidly drunk, he would say. "Any quieter ones but with music and dancing? Like lounge clubs? There were a few places I looked up, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what they’re called."

Annie nodded. "I can give you a list of clubs."

Len turned to Mick. "Thanks. We should check one out tonight. For the time being, could you show us our room? We had a long trip up here." Mick nodded.

"I'll bet you did. How long a trip was it?" Annie asked.

"We took the train so it was overnight and half a day." They had driven, Mick behind the wheels because Len couldn't drive to save his life - sure, he had his license, but long stretches of open road made him as jumpy as an alley cat in a hawk-infested field - but it had been about that long.

Annie gave a nod. "Mary and I'll give you the list of clubs when you come down." She got up and yelled down the hall. "I'm showing them their room." She walked them up the stairs and to the door on the right. There, she grabbed them both by the arm and spun them around to face her. "Now, both of you. No funny business of any kind in this house. Always use the keys. No breathing a word about any other guests. No fights in these walls. And no unregistered guests. Otherwise I'll have Sean deal with you. And there might not be much left to send home after that."

Mick stared at her expression then at Len, who had a similar expression on his face, then back at Annie. "Yes, Annie." Next to him, Len nodded as well.

"Good, now that we've gotten that squared away." She unlocked the door. He was afraid the room would be frilly. However, there were no doilies and no lace and no bed curtains. There were two beds, wood frames, and the comforters were thick and dark. There was a high window, with a view of the street, but over a roof that would make seeing up from the street difficult. And there were two big chairs, also dark and comfortable looking. He nodded his approval. "Bathroom is at the end of the hall. Here are your keys; you each get a set. House, room. Dinner is on you. Breakfast is at 9am. Let Mary or me know if there's anything else you need. I'll have the list in half an hour." She closed the door and left them alone.

Len put his stuff by the wall and stretched out on the bed that was closer to the window, rolling his shoulders. Mick decided that sooner rather than later was the time to get some of the umpteen thousand questions answered, or at least have Len tell him that they were under control. He set his stuff down by Len's and sat on the unclaimed bed: comfy bed.

"Snart, I got some questions."

Len rolled onto his side, surveying Mick. "Lovely place, isn't it? You never would have guessed that the two cute bed and breakfast owners downstairs have connections with the mob, and by connections I mean can keep the mob respectful of them rather than the other way around. Or that they are the most connected people in Boston and can keep us out of trouble. Oh and that Sean they were talking about? Deadly if you cross him."

Mick laughed in amazement. “So they don’t think I’m their relative?”

“They might. But the whole ‘haven’t seen you since Joe’s graduation when you were nine’ thing? That’s our story – visiting relatives in Boston who own a little B&B over on whatever street this is.” 

Mick nodded, most of the weird double-layers he was seeing in their interactions with Snart downstairs making sense. "Are they actually married?"

Len nodded. "Far as I can tell, yeah. Figured it was good to know a little of the politics behind gay marriage if we were staying here, 'cause they do actually care."

"And we're going to be in town for a week? Is it paid in advance?"

"They get a percent of what we get. And if we need to split early, they won't object. But if we want to stay the whole week, they sure won't hand us over anytime soon."

"Good deal. So what's the plan?"

Snart pulled over his bag and pulled out a folded set of plans. "We go scope it out later today. Get money out. Here's your card; here mine. Then we go clubbing. Tomorrow, we go to the duck park at Boston Gardens and finish scoping the place. Wednesday, we set up. Thursday, still haven’t decided, but for dinner, I booked us into a place that serves amazing baked Alaskas and does this thing with meat that’s out of this world. Friday, we rob the place. "

"Huh. So very public when we're not stealing stuff."

"That's the plan. Regular tourists."

"Duck park?"

"It's famous; I figure we might as well see it. But tonight, let's dress up and make people jealous." He turned to survey Mick.

Mick laughed. "Alright, Snart. Though if you wear that blue suit again, we're gonna end up grinding on the dance floor again and making out in the hallway of wherever we go."

Len smiled. "I'm fine with that."

\--

Len picked the club, dark-lit, bouncer in a suit upscale. He was wearing the navy blue suit that Mick had commented on. It made his eyes look big and blue and gorgeous and made Mick want to kiss him all evening and tell him how beautiful he was. Mick himself was wearing black pants with a dark red shirt that Snart had kissed hard and often him the first time he'd worn. Here, this was a classy joint, and it wouldn't interfere with Snart's plan for the week at all. He reached into his pocket again. 

"Mick," Len caught his hand and gave it a squeeze. "You nervous? We can go back to the B&B if you want. Or if it's the whole job, tell me and we can cut our losses."

"It's not that," he said, taking his hand out of his pocket.

"Then dance with me. We can go to a cookout afterwards."

Len dragged him into the main room. There was a bar that had neon lights accenting it - very pretty. However, Mick's attention was grabbed by the giant wall of real fire spurting up from the floor between layers of glass. He laughed. "Snart. Look."

"I know. I heard about it and couldn't resist." He looked over at him, and Len was all but beaming at him, in his own fashion - blush smile, slight roll on the forward on the balls of his feet.

"I think you’re trying to butter me up," Mick observed.

"While we're here," Len shrugged, then took his hand and snaked them between people - he had always admired Snart's ability to weave through crowds like that - incredibly useful on jobs, incredibly useful now as he weaved them across the room to stand closer to the fire glass. Len then let go off his hand and turned around in his arms. "Wanna dance?"

Mick grinned. "Hell yeah." He grabbed Len by the waist and guided him closer to his body. Len wrapped an arm around Mick's neck. The music was playing something modern, it was unimportant what. The overhead lights were changing colors from a blue hue to a redder rue to a neon yellow and back again, draping everything in whatever color they were on. And Len and him were dancing by the fire sculpture. It was perfection. He dipped Len back. The man laughed. Mick beamed: it always made him feel a warm glow inside to make Len laugh in delight; he did it with abandon so rarely, typically a more controlled chuckle that as often as not did not extend to his eyes.

The moment was perfect. Now or never, he reached into his pocket. Len's hands followed his in there as he clasped it around the ring box. He stopped, both of them feeling around what was not a lighter. Mick watched Len's face as it went from puzzlement, to surprise and finally to mirth. That had not been in the realm of reactions Mick was expecting.

"Snart?" he asked for clarification. 

"Pull it out. I want to see it." Len tugged his hand. He kept an arm slung over Mick's shoulder. Mick did and opened it so Len could see it. "Ohh. That's nice."

Again, not the expected reaction. "Snart, I, uhh, you don't seem surprised. I take it the answer is yes?" 

"Hang on. You there!" Len flagged down a waiter who was walking around with cocktails. "Could you bring over the package for Leonard now rather than in a half hour?" 

The waiter nodded. Mick was starting to get what was going on here and it left a shit-eating grin on his face. "Is that package also a ring? Was all of this pre-planned?"

Len brought his hand up and kissed it right where the thumb met the point finger, where Mick felt a tingling ever time Len touched. "You know me: I don't do anything without a plan."

"We were going to get engaged to each other on the same job?" Mick clarified.

"Seem like it. Makes sense, though: after all, Massachusetts did just legalize same-sex marriage, and it's not like we get up here that often."

Mick laughed and pulled Len in against his chest. Len laid his head against Mick's chest and stared up at him, smiling. "Happy coincidence."

Mick put his arm around Len and realized he was still holding the ring box. "Hey, Lenny," he asked, opening the box and holding it in front of his soon to be fiance, "Will you be mine?"

Len laughed. "Yes, Mick." He held out a hand. Mick slid the ring onto his finger. He and Len both surveyed it. Mick thought he had done well. The ring was a dark gray metal that glittered in the changing light from tiny diamonds set into it all around it. "It's gorgeous," Len purred at it. Mick kissed his forehead.

The waiter brought the other box over on a silver tray. It was not a small ring box, but a larger black box. Mick would not have recognized it if he had not already known what was in there. "Gentlemen," the waiter inclined his head as Len took the box off the tray and disappeared back into the crowd.

Len opened the box to reveal a necklace chain and a ring in what looked like obsidian, but obsidian that as it caught the light seemed to glow with fire from within. "What is it?" Mick breathed.

"You like it?" Len asked. "I got you the chain just in case you'd rather wear it around your neck." Ah, why had Mick not thought of that? Snart tended not to like things on his finger any more than Mick normally did (playing with fire made metal burn flesh). But Snart was happily wearing his ring. Mick's heart skipped a beat in joy.

"No, let me wear it," Mick said.

Len smiled, pulling the ring out of the box and tucking the box away. "Mick Rory, will you be mine?"

"Course." Len slid the ring on his finger and pressed their hands together so they could see the rings they had selected for each other against one another's. 

"It's perfect, Lenny," Mick said. Len beamed. Mick dipped him again and kissed him on the lips, at first a peck, which Len returned, then deeper and longer until they went back to the B&B to continue the evening, with lingering kisses and removal of clothing, and in the morning, they showed off their rings to Mary and Annie who were very happy to put the wheels in motion to get them married.

\--

A month later, a CCPD phone rang and a detective picked it up. “Hello, Central City Police Department, Detective Martingale speaking.” He frowned. “Uh huh. Uh huh. Yes, sir. Yes, we do have a file on them.” He frowned deepened. “Which department is this, sir? Why would-? Did they? They didn’t. Well, whose last name are they taking? Sir, it is very likely you were scammed. Well, I’ll be sure to congratulate them as soon as we find them.” Detective Martingale hung up the phone and looked around at his fellow detectives. “You’ll never believe this, but the Snart boy and Mick freaking Rory got hitched in Boston last month.”


End file.
